


In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)

by madandimpossible



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: AU, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, F/M, Kinda?, Study Group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madandimpossible/pseuds/madandimpossible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Britta and Jeff have been dating for almost two years. When Jeff learns that Britta has undergo a procedure to erase memories of him after their break up - he decides to do the same. As their relationship unravels, Jeff realizes that it wasn't all bad. In fact, it was kind of great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)

**Author's Note:**

> Aw man, my first Community fic and I don't even really know what this is. I just watched the movie last night and was like “You know, this could work with Jeff and Britta. So here we go.” 
> 
> No Beta, all mistakes are my own ~ (also, I realize that I struggle with tense a lot...so ugh I hope it doesn't make anything too confusing and I blame the weird narrative ok gufdsljfs + I added a few things that aren't like canon but shh and also I like stopped watching community and then started and then stopped so basically im just sorry all around

Jeff opened his eyes, slowly adjusting to the foggy light of the early morning pouring into his window.

He forgot to shut the blinds. Or did he shut them? He could have sworn he did...

  _I took a drive out to Denver...I don't know why. I'm not really an impulsive person, I don't just get into my Lexus and drive into the sunset...sunrise – whatever._

 The park was desolate, a few joggers, but no one wanted to sit outside in the misty morning air and freeze their balls off.

 No one but him and the blonde woman tossing stale bread to the ducks.

  _I skipped class today...it's the day before Valentine's...that bullshit holiday some asshole invented to make people feel miserable if they're not in a relationship._

 He tried to think of what he did last Valentine's but, his memory came up blank.

“Hi.” Jeff looked up to see the blonde woman had moved from the pond and was now standing in front of him, “You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette would you? I'm dying for one...”

“Ah...” He checked his pockets, just to make sure, he was having a really weird morning – he even skipped his morning run. “No, sorry...what'd you say your name was?”

“I didn't.”

The smirk she gave him caught him off guard.

“So, you just come up to strangers and ask them for things? That's a little intrusive.”

“If I had more strangers lurking around the park, I'd ask them – but you're the only one here and it's not creepy at all that you're sitting on a bench by yourself at six in the morning.”

Jeff took this as a clue to turn on the Winger-Charm, “You could always join me.”

“And joining you isn't _intrusive_?”

“Not if you're invited.”

The guarded expression she wore melted slightly, the smirk curving into something a little more genuine, and bringing out the redness of her cheeks from the sharp, cool air.

“Britta Perry.” She said before sitting beside him with their thighs not quite touching.

“Jeff Winger.” They shake gloved hands like proper adults and even then – Jeff is sure he's seen her _somewhere_ before. Her slightly curled blonde hair that frames a pretty face with skeptical brown eyes, it _feels_ like he's touched those strands, threaded them through his fingers (way to be creepy, Jeff).

He chalks it up to early morning no-running, no-caffeine sickness.

For a full two minutes – it's silent. Not a perfect silence, because that's impossible in Denver, but it's as close as Jeff as ever experienced. Next to a complete stranger – no - next to Britta, it should feel uncomfortable...it freaks him out that it doesn't.

Britta angled her body slightly to face him, eyes darting away from the tree branches to stare into his; “You're going to think I'm crazy for saying this...”

“Try me.” Jeff met her gaze and held it. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't impressed that she didn't back down.

“Have we met before, you just – you're really familiar looking – like you've got one of _those_ faces.” Britta peered at him like he was some type of museum display. “I don't live in Denver, I just...where do you work?”

“Can you keep a secret?” He raised both his eyebrows. Britta looks intrigued, but he's assuming it's a front – he wouldn't expect her to take the bait that easily. Though, he doesn't why he can make so many assumptions about a person he just met.

“No, but tell me anyways.”

“I used to be a lawyer...” He paused for a dramatic effect, he used to do it in the courtroom all the time and some habits just never go away. “But, I'm back in school because my academic records were put into question.”

“Where?”

“Greendale Community College.”

“Ah that's it! I must have seen you on campus.” She looked so satisfied in that moment, like she had unraveled the greatest mystery of all time - “I go there too. High school drop out.”

“Huh. Small world.”

“I guess so...who would have thought the creepy bench guy goes to the same community college...” Britta snorted, “We sound like the opening act to a cliché love story written by fourteen year olds.”

This time when she smiles, Jeff can't help but smile back.

“We wouldn't be a love story, I think we're more in the horror genre.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do? Feed me to the ducks?”

 

* * *

 

 The bottle clinked noisily onto the ground but, it didn't smash in the satisfying way Jeff wanted it to. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes to block out the blurry world.

“She didn't _remember_ me.” He told Abed earlier that day, “She was sitting out on the grass with some...stoner hippy guy and – she didn't KNOW who I even was.”

“Perhaps Britta had her memory erased.” His answer only managed to upset Jeff more.

“Abed, this isn't one of your television shows – that's not a – a – surgical procedure people can do.”

“Actually, it is.” That's when he gave Jeff an envelope.

 

BRITTA PERRY _has removed all memories of;_ JEFF WINGER _please refrain from mentioning him to her for this may cause confusion and remove any photos or memorabilia that contain_ JEFF WINGER _and_ BRITTA PERRY _in order to ensure a smooth recovery._

 

“Though, technically speaking – the procedure isn't surgical at all, they use a map of your brain that you've helped them create by bringing forward mementos of the person to trigger an emotional response, it's gotten very popular over the last few months.”

“Thanks, Abed.”

Jeff decided he would make an appointment tomorrow. If Britta didn't want to remember him, he didn't want to remember her either. It's not like their almost two year relationship was going well, nearly every night ended in a fight and half the time there wasn't any angry make-up sex. He could see _why_ she did it but, that didn't make it any more fair.

A picture of the Halloween dance when they shacked up in the bathroom, her blue and white stripped sweater, a Radiohead CD she always kept in the stereo, a rather pathetic looking ashtray he made in pottery that stopped getting used once she quit but, still had a spot on the coffee table, countless notes passed back in forth in class – all of it and more was thrown into a black trash bag.

“My name is Jeff Winger and I'm here to erase Britta Perry...”

 

* * *

 

“So, I guess I'll be seeing you around campus?” Britta asked as they walked back towards the entrance of the park, her hands tucked into her coat pockets and the hot puffs of air floating in front of her face with each word she said.

“I guess you will.” Jeff didn't want her to go, they had clicked so suddenly, bouncing stories back and forth, snark-filled remarks, a joke and a narcissistic comment. The chemistry was there. Sure, he had it with everyone, but even more with Britta. The energy just ricocheted.

“I have class at eight...you wanna grab a coffee? – I can give you a ride.” He offered, teetering at the edge of the sidewalk with his keys in hand.

Britta paused, obviously weighing her options about going out for coffee with a complete stranger and taking the risk that ex-lawyer Jeff Winger might be a serial killer.

“Alright, but only because it's freezing and I could use the caffeine.” Britta held up one finger, “One coffee and you take me straight to Greendale after.”

Jeff grinned, “On my honor as a man of the law – one coffee.”

She laughed at that and Jeff couldn't shake the feeling that this was the start of something. Even though he didn't believe in fate, or destiny, or love at first sight or dibs. Even with those beliefs, Jeff couldn't deny it – this was a beginning to something great.

* * *

 

Jeff stumbled into bed, lying on his back and letting out a loud groan of discomfort. That damn street lamp always bled its stupid orange light right onto his pillow. He climbed out of bed and shut the shades, the clock reading; 10:01pm – the doctor assured him that his team would arrive by 10:00 and no later.

“Is it going to hurt?” Jeff asked, displaying the first signs of anxiety since he walked into the room.

“No – not at all. You will wake up with a headache, but no more than you would have after a night of heavy drinking.”

Jeff buried his face into the pillow, he could still smell her shampoo for fuck's sake – how were they gonna erase all the little details like that?

He heard the door open just as he fell off into oblivion.

The door slammed shut and Jeff sat up straight with Britta storming into the bedroom, “I can't believe you! Really? What did you just _forget_ again?”

“What?” Jeff rubbed his eyes, _this is a memory, this already happened – we fought about this last week..._ “Britta, sit down – what time is it? Shit.”

“It's almost one.” Her hair was pulled up, the dress (he never noticed until the second time how nice that dress looked) half-zipped as she angrily undressed near the television. “You said you were going to pick me up at Abed's party.”

“You made it home.”

Jeff ran a hand through his short hair, “Why do you always do this?” He grumbled to the memory of Britta as she continued on, like they were still having the argument, “Flip out over a small mistake, yeah, I forgot – I passed out – and you took a cab. God, Britta, when did you get so petty? You used to be fun.”

The memory faded into blackness.

“You are not that big of a deal!” Britta had shouted at him before listing off a few things, like his bathroom tiles, and what he looked like when he did push-ups, and his bad posture. He never realized that she paid attention to so many small details of their life.

“I'm so HAPPY I'm erasing you right now!” Jeff shouted back, “Yeah, no more Britta! No more Britta and Jeff! I can't wait until you're gone!”

That memory left his brain with a hard, cold smack.

 

* * *

 

“Seriously, you had Professor Chang in your first semester too?” Britta quirked an eyebrow at him, unbelieving the fact that they had been in the same class and never met. Her hands curled around the cup of coffee, keeping it right in front of her, it was a subtle body language barrier. He didn't miss it.

“Dude is _insane.”_

“Right?! I barely passed!”

* * *

 

Jeff stepped under the cover of her umbrella. _I barely remember this._ “You know, I don't understand the fascination with rain or why women seem to think it's romantic. It's how you catch pneumonia.” He looked down at Britta, he had that effect of towering over people – especially her when she didn't have heels on.

“I don't remember this.”

Britta met his eyes, “That's because you've only been remembering the shitty parts.” She took in his shocked expression and gave a gentle roll of her eyes, “Jeff, you're in your head, and I'm a part of your head.”

The streetlamps flickered before going out and the streets were strangely desolate. Britta continued on, “Anyways, like I was saying – pneumonia.” And then she dropped her umbrella and took off, leaving Jeff soaked in the rain as she ran up the stairs into their apartment.

“I should have chased after you!” He yelled to her as she stood in the doorway.

“I wanted you to.” She called back, “You had been such a mopey douche-bag for the past month.”

He remembered now. He had just stood there, getting more drenched by the second, before sulkily picking up her umbrella and dragging his feet back into the apartment.

“I was going through some shit.” He said to the memory by manner of explanation, but it was already too late; Britta was gone.

Jeff shut his laptop as Britta walked over, carrying two cans of soda, and taking a seat next to him at the table in the study room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No...” He gave her a heavyhearted smile, “Especially when it's a not-licensed therapist asking a question like that.”

“I'm not asking as a therapist.” Britta opened her soda, the label disappearing on the can, “I'm asking as your friend.”

“You were the only one who did.” Jeff muttered, hand pressing a dent into the can, “Let me keep this one.” He looked up at the ceiling, “Let me keep this one! Do you hear me?” When Jeff looked back, the can was on the table, but the blonde had vanished.

His mother had passed away and Jeff reacted by shoving his friends away, he couldn't stand it – all the support in the world wouldn't bring his mother back. It forced him to acknowledge the fact that no one was here forever. They had all embraced him when the news was delivered. Only Britta sat on the floor of their living room with him and drank with him until they fell asleep on the carpet with her head on his chest.

The pain of that memory made Jeff flinch. He could feel the weight of her head on his chest, the smell of scotch and her hair tickling his nose and chin.

“Have a good Christmas break, Jeff.” She passed the poorly wrapped gift into his hands, her scarf still bundled around her neck, and Jeff opened it without grace. The snow fell heavily on his Lexus, blinding the streetlamps and the road, the memory turning faint white at the edges and bleeding into everything else.

“Caristina?” Jeff stared at the bottle of almond facial scrub that they only made in Finland, how she managed to get it (online, probably) wasn't the point – the point was that she got it. For him. Even when she called him out for being high maintenance, teased him for his hair or obsession with his physique, she still remembered something like this and latched onto it.

“Did I ever say thank you?”

Britta shook her head, “Not technically, no. But, I was pretty sore the next day.”

He laughed, bitterly, watching the snow bury the car. “How did it get all fucked up?” The windows frosted over.

“We...were stubborn, and argumentative...the downfall of the whole process is that it forces you to acknowledge the fact that it wasn't all terrible – that we had some really amazing times together – like – this Christmas – Abed thought everything was stop-animated?”

“Yeah, yeah I do and remember when--” Jeff turned his head to get one last look at Britta, with her grey scarf hiding her chin, and her hair tucked under a black beanie. His passenger seat was empty. The gift, red and white stripped gift wrap gone, and Jeff – impulsively – yanked open his car door and stepped out onto the snowy street.

“ _Britta!”_

 

* * *

 

She finished her coffee before he finished his, but they were still talking, marveled at how much they had in common and even more that they disagreed about. “You like that place? _Please_ , more like douche-street.”

“Red door? Some hipster place no one has ever heard of why would I want to go to a place that has no reputation?”

“It's not a hipster bar! It's underground and going to those types of places are where you meet interesting characters.”

“Oh, what, like you?”

“Like me.” Britta challenged, folding her arms on the table and leaning forward.

“I have to disagree.”

“I have a feeling I'll be hearing those four words all day.”

 

* * *

 

Jeff pressed his fingertips into the curve of her spine, letting Britta curl into him, almost urging her to do so – to block out the pointless noises of the outside world and stay trapped in this perfect bubble they had created between his apartment and hers. He flipped her onto her back, the constant and never-ending battle between their two personalities in mind, and he felt rather than heard Britta's gasp and grumble of irritation. They were always fighting, even here, at their most intimate – but it wasn't a bad sort of fighting.

It was testing. It was pushing. Challenging. _Bring me to my worst so that you can make me better and make me remember who I am, who I'm supposed to be._

Britta clawed at his back, he responded with a nip to her collar bone, “No marks!” She hissed, digging her nails in deeper for emphasis.

“We've got two weeks.”

And they had left it at that.

Jeff felt numb, wallowing in the hazy afterglow of that memory as it washed over him and washed away.

“Turn it off, turn it off, gotta find a way to turn it off.” Jeff laid down on his bed, “Okay, I just gotta wake up.” He shut his eyes and opened them; nothing. Britta, the Britta of his memories, was standing at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed.

“Jeff, I thought you wanted this!”

“CHANGE OF PLANS!” He tried again.

But, then his apartment was gone and he was on his back in the space shuttle simulator. “Jeff, this isn't going to work.”

“Yes. It will. I have to remember _something,_ Britta. Anything.” He raked a hand through his hair, turning and looking at her as she stood in the white jumpsuit, arms still folded, expression still neutral – but cracking because he would always have that effect on her. Real Britta and In My Head Britta, he would always be able to break down the barriers.

“They made a map of memories, right? In my head – memories of you – we just have to go off the map.”

“Ohhh I get to go on an adventure into the narcissistic, lazy, and egotistical Jeff Winger's inner psyche? Damn, I wish I was conscious for this.” Britta sat crossed-legged beside him, while the KFC space shuttle blinked and faded, it's buttons disappearing and quickly and the little details flickering away before their eyes. It seemed that the farther back they went, the easier the erasing process was.

“Don't sound so pleased.” Jeff shut his eyes, “I'm going,” He grabbed Britta's hand, “And taking you with me to a different memory.”

Jeff pulled Britta into another space in his head. Suddenly, they were pressed tightly together in his twin sized bed of his youth.

“Where are we?” Britta whispered. There was a slam of a front door and a slurred voice downstairs. There was another voice, hushed, pressed thin like paper. The slurred voice was louder, rattling the bones of the house. Jeff swallowed down the unpleasant memory with every once of stubbornness in his body. They couldn't find Britta here. This place wasn't on the map.

When he squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them; he's back in his apartment. Britta held together the legs of a coffee table, scrunching her nose in confusion. The rest of the parts, screws, and directions are plastered around her space on the floor.

“Are these directions in Chinese?!”

“No!” Jeff can already see the memory start to fade and he grabbed Britta once more.

“Jeff...” They're running. He doesn't know where. He just knows that this sidewalk has to end sometime and if he focuses – he'll find somewhere safe for Britta. “Jeff.” She repeated his name another three times before he turns.

“Can you shut up? I'm trying to -” But the sidewalk is gone and they're standing in a classroom. Spanish class. First semester at Greendale. The beginning – how did they reach the beginning so quickly?

“Britta, I'm sorry – I was an asshole – “

“Shut up.” Britta smiled faintly. She leaned close, Jeff almost assumed she was going for a kiss. Her mouth missed his by a mile and met his ear. She whispered a few words, and then was gone.

 

* * *

 

“Thanks for the coffee and the carpool.” Something about Britta leaving his car unsettled him. He wanted her to stick around, even for a just a few more minutes. It was nagging him, this nostalgia he felt. He wanted to break it down.

“Do you mind if I walk with you to first period?”

“You've officially upgraded yourself into 'Stalker'.”

“No, 'Stalker' would be if I knew your schedule already.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“I guess you can come along.”

He passed star-burns, who gave him a strange look. Annie, who smiled, said hello, but still gave them both strange looks. Troy even shifted uncomfortably and made a B-line for Abed. Shirley exchanged a glance with Pierce – who completely misinterpreted it and winked back at her.

“Cool. You two are back together.” Abed noted as the pair walked into the study room. Jeff frowned. Why was Britta still with him and what was Abed talking about? His study group met every day, first period. He brought all these people together with the help of Abed to get through Spanish class. Britta was the outcast, following him here – _look who's the stalker now!_

“Lord have mercy. Jeff, Britta, you know that we love you – but – it was really getting annoying having to work our study schedule around you two.”

“What?” Jeff and Britta responded in unison.

“I don't think they've realized it yet.” Abed said, tilting his head slightly, “I've never heard of a case of two people who erased each other 'hooking up' again.”

“We didn't hook up.” Jeff assured his friend.

“Yeah, Abed. I just met the guy.” Britta backed him up.

“This is why you don't trust that newfangled hulla-balloo of technology! Can't even do it right! They just take your money and whoops! Sorry, didn't mean to give you a robotic eyeball instead of fixing your hip!”

“That'd be cool.” Troy interjected.

“Agreed.” Abed held up one finger and then dug through his backpack. “Here. I held onto these.”

The pair tore into the envelopes, each reading the same message with some variants;

“BRITTA PERRY _has hereby erased all memories of;_ JEFF WINGER _please refrain from mentioning him/her to him/her for this may cause confusion and please: remove any photos or memorabilia that contain_ JEFF WINGER _and_ BRITTA PERRY _in order to ensure a smooth recovery. ''_

“ _JEFF WINGER has removed all memories of; BRITTA PERRY please refrain from mentioning BRITTA PERRY to him for this may cause confusion and double check to remove any photos or memorabilia that contain JEFF WINGER and BRITTA PERRY in order to ensure a smooth recovery.”_

 

“You had me erased?!” Britta turned on him, eyes alight with anger and confusion.

“You had me erased first!” Jeff shot back.

“I must have had a very good reason!”

“I'm starting to see why I did it too!”

Britta tightened her jaw, slapping the envelope onto the table and made for a quick exit. Jeff turned and saw all his friends staring expectantly at him.

“What?!”

“Jeff, I understand this must be very confusing for you - “ Shirely began, “But I think this is a sign.”

“The statistics of two people who were mutually erased from one anothers' memories meeting up again in such a short time frame, even when they cross over into the same friend circles is almost next to impossible. The fact that you acted civilly in your re-meet is unexpected. Almost unheard of.”

“It's true.” Troy nodded, “I knew two dudes who erased each other, lived in the same apartment building, went to the same parties – never talked. Didn't even _want_ to talk to each other.”

“Who?” Jeff prompted.

“Ben and Jerry.”

“You just made that up.”

"Mike and Ike." Troy tried again, earning an exsasperated glare from Jeff.

“Jeff.” Pierce gave a heavy sigh, “Cut her some slack. You both tried and you both gave up. Instead of fighting it out like normal people you went and bleached your brains!”

“So, what? You want me to go chase after her like some rom-com?”

“Actually, that would fall more under just the romantic genre – movies like _You've Got Mail_ or _The Notebook_. Romantic comedies try to break the molds of your average romantic movies in order to make them more amusing and light hearted.”

 

* * *

 

He caught up with her half a block away from school.

“Britta, Britta! Britta, wait!

“I don't wanna talk, Jeff.”

“Too bad, 'cause I do.” He jogged in front of her and blocked her way. She tried to step aside him and he childishly blocked her then, too. “Maybe we suck at this. It's not supposed to be easy, or perfect, or fully-functioning.” She had stopped trying to avoid him and now stood, perfectly still, with her arms crossed; listening.

“According to Abed, we were together for almost two years. I wouldn't have stuck it out for so long if I didn't have a damn good reason. Alright, so we lost it – we lost those two years – so what? We'll start from scratch. I don't care that I have to start over, I only care if it's not with you.” Jeff ran a hand through his hair, “That was bordering on romantic, wasn't it?”

“A little, but I'll let it go just this once.”

“You gonna come back to study group?”

Britta stayed quiet long enough for him to panic. Make him want to say anything (not even bordering on romantic this time, he'd go full-out _Notebook_ or _Titanic_ quotes if he had to).

“Okay.”

They nudged into each other when they walked. It wasn't hand holding or elbow grasping, but he'd greedily call it progress. It felt nice – right, even – to have her next to him.


End file.
